Sentimental Education
by soft flame
Summary: They'll learn someday. [hak x yona]


Standard disclaimer applies. I do not own Akatsuki no Yona. Obviously.

* * *

 **Sentimental Education - Part I**

* * *

 _I want to touch you._

The words still rang hollowly in his head, a painful recollection of the fantasy that had seized him in that moment. It was unlike him to hallucinate, and yet… what _was_ that?

No, he had no right. Control…—how laughably foreign it had become to him.

The slightest touch, the most minute gaze, and his mind was already playing tricks, hearing things— _saying_ things he knew she should never have to bear witness to.

Impositions most inappropriate.

 _Princess, I…_

— _love you._

Reckless. He was becoming reckless. How foolish of him to forget his station, …to overlook hers. Assuming she had heard him…? Assuming she had reached over that night and—in his state of mind—he had lost all sense of inhibition…

His breath caught in his throat.

How unbefitting.

He was undeserving of the confidence she placed in him, not when he could not even withhold… the most primitive of impulses. Not when she muddled his brain past any conceivable notion of self-restraint, no matter how innocent her actions.

It was not her burden to shoulder, no. He knew that, knew that this sick torment was of his own design. Even as she continued, so persistently, to remain blissfully unaware… how could he, in the face of such inertia, after all she had done for him… have the audacity to overstep his bounds, to forego the relationship between mistress and servant, lifelong companion and friend?

How could anyone, in his position, deign to make such desires known?

…

…

…Selfish.

He was selfish. Quite so.

What a tired narrative it all was, that of unrequited love.

He gave a curt laugh; he had begun to sound nearly as miserly as that White Snake.

But Hak didn't need Dragon's blood to feel the sense of duty that weighed his thoughts.

 _Still_ , he mused, _I can be selfish sometimes. Because…_

He knew all would be lost the day she regained the throne, knew all too well that soon thereafter, after countless offers for her hand…—

…Yona… would find a suitor worthy of her lineage.

He closed his eyes.

For now, he reasoned, it was okay to be just a little greedy.

But the more he indulged, the faster his undoing.

 _So… for her sake, I… need… to stay away._

* * *

That air of mystery with which Hak surrounded his every maneuver came as a surprise to Yona. It was true that for as long as she had known him, he had made a secret of things even the most inconsequential. The reasons for his distance remained out of her grasp. She remembered distinctly, even now, his unobtrusive gait as he escorted her through the castle, always deliberately three steps behind. That insistent, gently-teasing, oft-chiding ' _hime-sama'_ which punctuated all of their interactions still echoed in her mind. And the watchful gaze that never left her—those things had not changed. But there existed between them, back then, a calculated gulf, never to be bridged.

How sure she had been that things were different between them now. After the coup, Hak stood by her at all times. The quips that came so easily to him were never mal-intentioned, but they had started to become interspersed with praise.

And Hak sometimes did not hesitate to resort to indelicate handling.

She had been happy, despite herself, to feel them getting closer.

But it had all vanished overnight. He turned away from her almost as if she had ceased to exist. She could not place why, all of a sudden, his embrace felt wistful, nor did she understand the vacant expression that had settled in his features.

 _What are you thinking, Hak?_ She wanted to ask—no, command. _Tell me._

The campfire crackled, casting shadows across his face. For the breath of a moment, she swore she saw something flit through those eyes.

Looking at it from this distance, Yona wondered why Hak always seemed stranded in his silence. How she wanted, in that moment, to free him, to put her small, capable hands on those shoulders and shake him until he screamed, or cried, or whatever the hell would break him loose from that island of quiet.

But she could not. Of course she could not.

"I'm going to bed," she said suddenly, standing up. "Thank you for the meal, Yun. It was delicious." Mustering her most convincing smile, she bade, "Goodnight, everyone."

Escaping into the folds of the tent was all she could do to avoid the six pairs of concerned eyes that bore into her back.

* * *

 _author's note:_ This piece first appeared on my Tumblr, under the handle "chatain", and is part 1 of (tentatively) 3 chapters.


End file.
